


A fool’s descent

by arcana_fuse



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Catra needs therapy, F/F, Mild Sexual Tension, Mostly Canon Compliant, Trigger Warnings, Violence, basically after the portal ordeal, catra centric, catradora fights ):, like Catra is MAD mad, mentions of past self harm/abuse, obsessive tendencies, post season 3 ish, rated t for language & violence, serious angst, this is sad but they’re healing I promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-22 16:54:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22452877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcana_fuse/pseuds/arcana_fuse
Summary: Catra could feel the chasm that had formed between them. And the way she was fated to hopelessness, vanity. But she didn't care.If Adora's destiny was to find the sword, then maybe it was their destiny to be torn apart.
Relationships: Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 51





	A fool’s descent

**Author's Note:**

> I really wrote this in a 2am wave of sadness instead of finishing another work, but I like the outcome. Sorry for the angst but... I live for it.

The rune really wasn't much of a sight to behold, nothing more than scraps and fragmented gems scattered about the ground. It looked like it was some thousands of years old what with how its surroundings decayed in a nimble ring beneath Catra's exposed feet. Small flickers of light with no clear source illuminated the dust and shambles, like an eerie testament, a warning.

It was well past midnight now, Catra could tell with the way her eyes became heavy and the absence of the songs of the birds. Though the rune was clearly visible before her, and despite its emptiness still seemed very much alive.

As she trudged through it, Catra idly wondered what was here before it had descended into worthless dust; but a cogitation of its former glory. Tail lashing in annoyance at her lack of success in scouring it.

Well, maybe it wasn't completely worthless.

The signals her tracker pad blared made it apparent that whatever resided here must be powerful, _very_ powerful. So much so that the damned thing was losing its signal what with how desperately it soaked up the readings.

But even with such promise, after hours of searching the feline had met dead end after dead end. All Catra saw through multicolored eyes was a pathetic shadow of what was once an advanced temple. Some centuries ahead of their time. Full of unimaginable technology, upgrades, things that even the princesses with their elemental powers would have trouble combating. Seemed that wasn't true anymore.

Even so, the ancient place had some guaranteed value to her yet— because Catra knew she'd find her here. Any fancy First Ones technology was like a beacon to She-ra and the rebellion, because obtaining it meant gaining a massive advantage over the Horde. And getting it before they could would undoubtably jeopardize them, ruin them.

And they'd only naturally sent the mighty She-ra to do their dirty work.

Seriously, what were they, idiots?

Would Catra attempt to capture her? Maybe. But it'd be no fun without a bit of taunting, torture, first. Make her pay for what she'd done— remind her of who she'd left behind. Look her in her saddened eyes before rendering her helpless.

Adora was so childishly weak with her emotions, allowing them to easily interfere with her duties as She-ra. It was almost too easy to sabotage her with a simple sob story of their childhood, a gaze held for too long. Never failing to shake Adora off her guard.

Even with that stupid magic sword, her god-like powers, Catra was far from afraid of She-ra.

The crunch of leaves in the distance startled Catra, and she quickly leapt out of sight. Catching Adora by surprise was her best bet of having a fair match, considering she could be easily overpowered by her brute strength. Her eyes glowered in question, peering from her hiding place from behind a forested stump, drawing in the figure she had all too easily expected.

Sword dragging in the dirt beside her, back arched into a slouch, was She-ra. Oh, the _almighty_ She-ra.

When she was alone, Catra had easily caught on to her senseless vulnerability. Her blonde hair was shriveled and weaved down her shoulders— considering her consistently majestic appearance,that almost came as a surprise to Catra. As her head lifted she noted the striking features that could only belong to Adora, accompanied by her steel blue orbs and the sharp line along her jaw. She had physically changed quite noticeably since her time at the Fright Zone, even Catra could tell. They were becoming adults now; turning into women. Though Catra had always thought they'd reach that point together.

She-ra seemed as though she glowed under the limelight of the rune, (side effect of being a princess) though she wore a languid expression that strictly contrasted it. Dark circles had found their place below her eyes, her lids favoring heaviness. Back in the Fright Zone, Adora had always done an excellent job of masking her exhaustion.

Seems that wasn't the case, now. Even Catra could tell that being everyone's favorite, everyone's _hero_.. was no easy job.

It was like opening night of the same damned play they performed without fail, the curtains drawing themselves above the two. Costumes enrapturing their bodies, faces void of any real or feasible emotion toward the other. Only what they were programmed to feel and to say.

As if right on cue, Catra began the scene as she stepped into the warrior princess's view.

"..Adora." She bit back the _hey_ that often accompanied the greeting. She glanced at her claw-like nails, feigning uninterest. Trying hard to ignore the fact that her skin prickled uncomfortably at the sight of her, especially in her magnificent eight-foot form.

" _Catra_." Her name crosses her lips like ice. Albeit not bothering Catra much with the stale tone she had used, eyes narrowing. They had already drowned themselves in this same, subversive conformity after all.

Catra gave a shrill laugh. "Oh, wow. You know, I'd say I'm surprised to see you, but honestly? I'm not."

Catra had expected a scowl, the same scolding and disappointed gaze she had always gotten from Adora in their many, many encounters. It was a satisfying response, to say the least.

But it seemed today Adora didn't bother sticking to the script. "Oh, cut the crap, Catra."

What with her branding glare, it seemed Adora wasn't rolling over. Not this time.

Catra's ear flicked in interest. Sure, the tone was the same as always, but the intention seemed.. different. Like Adora sought something that Catra couldn't place.

Usually the blonde was much easier to read than that.

"Don't act like you didn't know you'd find me here." Adora crossed her toned arms, eyes narrowing in a dubious realization.

"Uh.. yeah." What made that different about today? Why was Adora reading so much into this? "As always, I'm here to stop you from doing your dumb princess shit. And hopefully gain something from this rune in the process." Catra flashed her tracker pad's signal on the screen, as if trying to prove her point.

Adora seemed to ignore the comment.

"Admit it," Adora said. Ominously. Unattached to any sort of claim.

Admit what? What kind of mind game was Adora playing? It was almost comical, really, how much of Shadow Weaver's aura she could see flash across Adora's clear blue eyes. Not the same intent, (Adora wasn't evil by any means) but the same inevitable outcome. The thought made a vein bulge out of her clenched hand.

She arched an eyebrow. "Admit what, exactly?" She could feel herself becoming anxious with the hanging question, eyebrows furrowed intently.

  
Sure. If Adora wanted to do improv, Catra would bite.

The feline seemed to count off her fingers, amused,

"Admit what? Admit that I've long since moved on? That I don't need you anymore? That I'm stronge—"

"—That you cant get enough of this. _That you're obsessed with me._ " Adora finished.

The statement seemed to cut through the air like ice. And Catra's eyes very well resembled saucers, skin prickling portentously.

"W-what?" Catra blinked as her defensive reactions took over, ears flattening, tail lashing lowly as it often did when furious. She could feel her lips slowly begin to curl into a scowl. "Are.. are you kidding me right now?" She hissed, attempting to contain the fire erupting in her throat.

"You heard me." She-ra muttered, blue eyes unrelenting. Permanently fixed onto Catra's shocked yet brazen gaze.

" _Obsessed_?" A scoff, a forced laugh. Catra could feel her chest burn up at the word, at the mere accusation. As if fighting it was the last thing her body wanted to do, but she wanted nothing more than to kick and scream and tear Adora apart for simply saying something so.. so ridiculous.

Her head pounded viciously. Catra seemed to be searching for some sort of explanation, so Adora provided her one.

"You always seem to be the one to show up. Why not send other people to do your dirty work?" She crossed her arms, again, suddenly so much closer to Catra than she had been moments ago. "Why is it always you that comes after me?"

An easy response. Though it came out more of a growl, "Because I'm the only one who can handle you, _princess_." At that last venomous word Adora visibly stiffened.

It was true. Anyone in her ranks that she'd put against She-ra turned up empty-handed and in shambles. Only she knew exactly how to take Adora down. How to properly push her buttons, combat her, ruin her.

"Well, maybe you want to be the one to handle me?" Adora arched a curious brow.

Catra stilled at the comment. She wasn't sure why that statement had come out the way it did, perhaps the suggestion behind her voice, the sultry smirk that accompanied it, or maybe she was simply overthinking it. It was terribly humiliating how true those words were. But either way she fought the flush that threatened to overtake her tan skin at the remark. _Fuck_!

The first defense mechanism that came to mind was, of course, violence. The anger that surged through her was enough fuel to command her to lunge forward, claws retracting. She aimed for the side of Adora's face, but her wrist was already caught by the blonde, and Catra quickly realized that she was unable to escape her hold. The brunette visibly seethed, leaning in close enough to breathe into Adora’s ear,

"I want to see your downfall. Because I hate you." The words came out bluntly, harshly. Exactly as she'd meant it.

She-ra remained virtually expressionless.

"No, I don't think you do." She seemed to think for a moment, a smirk tugging at her lips as she braved to lean in closer, "I think it's quite the opposite,"

Catra's ears fell flat at this, though all she could feel was hot anger begin to rise in her stomach at the statement. How could she possibly say that?

Who said Adora got to decide how she felt? She had no control over Catra, now. When they were younger, Adora may have been more powerful in the ranks, always Shadow weaver's shining star. Catra may have allowed herself to be manipulated by her, constantly at her beck and call.. but now she was calling the shots.

The reminder of betrayal flared anger and unresolved prejudice through her multicolored orbs.

"I... hate you!" Catra growled, baring her incisors in an attempt to assert herself, though it came out more as a squeak. Her voice had begun to fail her.

She-ra obviously noticed this sudden vulnerability in her words, taking another step forward to where she was suddenly gripping Catra's other wrist tightly,

"Say it again, but this time... more convincing."

She knew she was winning. Catra had been struggling, trying so desperately to hold her ground. But once She-ra's hands had interlocked both her wrists, she felt helpless. A solemn static cascading along her body.

"I. Hate. You." Catra used everything in her power to maintain eye contact with the blonde, to keep her teeth clenched in fortified resistance. Reassuring herself that the words she spoke were true. ..Right?

"..Do you?"

In this moment, Catra was frozen. Any words she may have desperately fathomed had long since died on her tongue. She-ra's steel blue eyes were like saucers, waiting in question, studying Catra's every move. Every response.

And in a second the blonde had detransformed before her, and suddenly oxygen became harder for Catra to access. Speaking to She-ra was easy, spiteful. That's how she usually saw her nowadays, in that tacky tiara with the formal upget Catra knows Adora probably hated, never going anywhere without her trusty sword. Catra hated She-ra, and the sword, and any part of Adora's princess destiny that had taken her away. Made her leave.

She would gladly destroy them in an instant.

But handling Adora? Her childhood best friend, her former ally? That was an entirely different story.

"Why, Catra?" It was an empty question that didn't need much elaboration. Translated simply to, _Why won't you leave the bad guys?_ Adora gifted her those same, sad eyes that she mustered up whenever she failed to understand Catra's motives, her antics. She wondered if she'd ever get it. "You know all the Horde did was abuse us, make us their pawns. They didn't want us for anything but a couple of soldiers to fight and die for them."

Catra snapped fiercely at this, though she didn't struggle much away from her hold, "Oh, yeah? And the rebellion doesn't see She-ra the same way?"

There was silence at this remark, but Catra could hear Adora's response in her head. The same sharp quip as always, like clockwork, _it's not like that._ What's it like, then?

"...It was never about the Horde." Catra broke the silence unreeling between them. "It was about destroying you the same way you destroyed me." Every word she spat was drawn out deliberately. Torturously. Seeing Adora's frustrated expression was enough of a reward.

The Horde was a complete shitshow; that much was true. But they had also raised Catra from a mere infant, thus she'd grown eerily accustomed to it — not to mention since Adora's departure she had found more opportunity there than ever. And it just so happened to be the opposite side of the war from Adora, who she yearned for revenge from; so if that meant suffering a little bit longer, Catra would deal with it.

"And trust me when I say that I want nothing more than to destroy you." Catra sneered, desperately attempting to confirm her former statement.

"And why, exactly, do you?" Adora asked.

Was she being serious?

"You. _Left_." Catra could feel her chest flare up once more, but this time, not in unresolved anger. It was.. something else. Like a hand wrapped around her throat. "You left when you said you'd always stay,"

It was so much more than that. But what with how hotly the words stilling in her mouth flared, she wondered if she could possibly speak on it any further. Not that Adora deserved more of an answer, anyway.

Silence. 

Did Adora even care? Why was she just staring at Catra, staring with empty and obvious disinterest, like she had done nothing at all? Like she had no worldly idea she had taken Catra's heart and stomped on it like it was meaningless? 

Did she even know the full of extent of what she'd done? When Adora had left, it had almost _killed_ her. Eaten away at her conscious like a vicious torture. Given her weeks of no sleep, and in turn sickness, as well as a completed disregard for her own health. Gifting herself scars in exchange for a consistent way to cope with her abandonment. She'd rather have taken a couple dark magic spells from Shadow Weaver than have to endure that same, callous pain that Adora had so deliberately caused.

"Maybe so," Adora didn't even bother denying it. There was no use. How many times had they had this same conversation? "I know that I left, and there's no taking that back."

Wow. No taking it back? That was the understatement of the century. Adora's countless and empty apologies hardly fixed anything. If anything, only reopened the wound and carved into it like a venomous knife.

"But I want you to know, Catra, that not everything that happened was my fault." Adora said, sternly, unopen to any sort of criticism as she quickly continued,

"I may have initiated it, sure, and caused you a lot of pain." The shimmer of her blue orbs seemed to acknowledge Catra's frustration only momentarily. "But I did what I had to."

It always ended the same way. Adora causing Catra pain. Catra waiting in the Fright Zone, wide awake in their formerly shared bed, eyes locked onto the door of the Fright Zone barracks. Heart throbbing, desperately hoping Adora would just walk in, that everything was just a dream. Even if she had just battled Adora the day before, left red hot scars of hatred down her back. If she had just walked in and told Catra she was done with the stupid rebellion... things could’ve been different.

Adora sliced through these thoughts,

“I did everything in my power to make things right, Catra. To fix things,"

_Though without directly coming back._ She seemed to whisper through her words, and Catra knew very well she never had any intention to. Because she cared so much more about her princess friends than her long-time companion, her best friend. That much was obvious.

Catra can't recall much of an attempt for reconciliation besides these meaningless conversations, Adora's numerous justifications for leaving. Her expectation for Catra to simply follow her wherever she went. She wasn't sure how that was intent to make peace rather than an attempt to manipulate her further.

"And you," Adora said, eyes raking across the feline, "you turned a blind eye. Every time I tried to talk to you, you turned it into a battle. You convinced yourself you didn't care."

Catra attempted to shoot back but the words came up dead in her mouth, standing motionless. Didn't care?

" _Didn't care_?" She had spent way too much time hoping Adora would come back. Albeit she had also.. punished herself every time the thoughts returned. Gnawed and slashed at her own conscious, her own skin. Did everything she could to keep Adora's name out of her mouth.

Of course she cared. She cared a little too much, if anything. But regardless, she resorted to a burning habit of letting lies upon lies fly out of her mouth. She'd do anything she could to prevent Adora from winning.

"Of course I didn't care. I didn't need you, and I never have."

Adora seemed to trace the dishonesty, but didn't address it. Knowing that was the easiest path to getting Catra to blow up in a cloud of unrelenting fury.

But she was still going to be brutally honest whenever necessary. "You did this to yourself, Catra." Adora finished, arms crossed sternly, "You're self-destructive," Catra though of the scars that decorated her skin, the dents in the walls of her room as a result of her own fists, "and so incredibly selfish that all you want to do is take me down with you so that nobody else can have me."

_So nobody else can have me._

That seemed to be the last straw for Catra, the harsh proclamation sending her into an unrelenting blur of fury. She broke Adora's hold, shoving the blonde to the floor, pinning her swiftly. Slashing across her cheek with her nails, a fist meeting the other side of her face.

Adora, though hardly fighting back, managed to shove Catra off of her with her legs, sending her sprawling backwards. When Catra didn't back off, she grasped one of her arms and pulled her into a strong embrace, bending Catra's arm behind her back painfully, stunning her. Catra strained against the hold with little success. Forced to meet eyes with Adora, who held her with a sort of tenderness despite the fact she could break her arm at any moment.

Even without She-ra, Adora had always been stronger than Catra. Her body suited for combat rather than the feline's lean, quick complexion.

"Too.. _close_." Catra hissed, clawed hands tightening under Adora's, but she didn't have enough room to struggle. She felt heat cascade across her body, dipping straight into her flaming core. She could no longer control her body, what with the way Adora's body pressed against her own. Why did she feel this way? This was so wrong, so against everything she'd been working for these past few months. Old feelings resurfacing like poison.

As usual, Adora had a way of ruining everything. Her mere existence setting Catra alight.

Blue eyes raked across her own, searching for some kind of reassurance, but she was offered none. As Catra shamefully averted her gaze, still straining, Adora carefully released the feline from her hold.

"I don't want to get into this right now, Adora." Catra chided, finding herself becoming alarmingly defensive. Shoving down her thoughts. Trying so desperately to keep herself from exploding any further.

"When will it ever be a good time?" Adora seemed to sigh in disappointment. The red lines Catra gifted her on her right cheek prominent. They'd match the ones on her back, and everywhere else Catra had found them fitting to reside.

"Maybe never! I don't owe you anything." Catra said, chewing the inside of her cheek, canines drawing blood. A nervous habit she'd had since childhood, which Adora's scouring orbs had easily picked up on.

"I know that," Adora sighed, "And you're right. You don't."

She's right? Only a second ago, things were her fault. Only a second ago, she was trying to get Catra to admit to what she was saying. "Stop that! Stop getting into my head!" Catra spat, shoving Adora away, fangs bared.

"I'm not getting into your head." Adora remained unphased. Catra had always envied her calm exterior. In such a tense situation, Catra found it harder than anything to keep her cool.

"I'm just trying to show you what's already there, Catra." Adora sighed, trying to pick her words carefully. "..I know you feel it too."

She didn't know anything. She didn't know Catra. Maybe then, back in the Fright Zone when they were scared little kids, when Catra desperately yearned for someone else's approval. The approval of her best friend, specifically.. maybe more.

But now..

Catra snarled, nails digging into her palm and leaving half crescents in their wake, "You ever think that not everybody is in love with you, Adora?"

Silence. From the ends of the rune to the wisp of the wind, a hollow feeling of static unfurling around them. Electricity testing itself between their gaze.

She continued, biting back a sob,

"Not everybody stares in their mirror and sees your eyes staring back at them. Not everybody sits in their cot, staring at an empty ceiling, forgetting how to sleep properly without you. Not everybody spends all of their time desperately hoping, praying that you'll come back, like some fucked up, unattainable reality." Her chest flared as if she'd break at any moment. Eyes fighting back the tears that threatened to emerge.

"Not everybody wakes up and hopes your identity crisis is just a nightmare." Shoving Adora aside, Catra began to storm away.

Eyes wide, Adora grabbed her arm before she could depart. The feline had a bad habit of running away right when they were making progress.

"Catra, wait."

Try as she might to be gentle, Catra slapped her hand away instantaneously.

"What? What is it that you could _possibly_ say right now?"

"You can leave. I'll let you go. Just.. let me have the last word. For _once_ ," Adora snapped, and Catra could hear the blonde's steady voice start to falter. To give out.

So Catra gifted her with momentary silence. It's the last thing she'd ever give her.

"I know that not everyone likes who I am, or what I've become, or what I've done. B-but," her eyes found the ground, which was uncommon for the ever-confident blonde, "Just know that I really care about you. A lot. Even after everything that's happened."

"I know that doesn't fix anything, or suddenly put us on good terms. I just.. had to tell you." Eyes struggling to meet Catra's multicolored ones, Catra could scarcely tell that Adora had really meant it.

The feline searched to make sense of what was being said. For she tried so desperately put a name to what Adora had just told her, reading between the lines as best she could.

"So... you're saying y-you—"

"Of course I miss you. More than anything.”

Tears stinged the corners of Adora's eyes. Catra couldn't think of the last time she'd seen the blonde cry; how it genuinely hurt her to watch. How could Adora she say something so.. powerful with such little hesitation?

Every serious thought in Catra's mind was like a battle, fighting away from a coherent consensus. In this moment she couldn't even make sense of how her mind responded to what Adora was saying. She didn't want to address the warm feeling that had erupted in her stomach, the nausea clouding her senses. Why did she have to pay mind this aching confusion that had suddenly plagued her every being? _It's a trick_! Her mind screamed at her every trusting thought, warning her, _If she really meant it, why did she leave?_

Catra knew that she should open her mouth to speak, to ask questions, clear up the tense air which surrounded them. But it was a simple solution.. she didn't have to. So instead, as always, she settled with fury. 

"Oh," Catra laughed. It picked up in volume, became more hysterical as the sun dipped further in the horizon.

"You think that because we used to be friends," Catra quickly corrected herself, " _best friends_ , that I owe you anything at all?"

"You think that because you're so hopelessly dedicated to repairing us that it just, poof! Erases everything that's happened?" She snarled.

A misunderstanding, as always. Not that it mattered. The selfish voice that screamed within Catra's mind was more trustworthy, more powerful that the blonde in this moment.

"You think you're so special, Adora?"

She thought of Shadow Weaver, and Hordak, and anyone who'd ever given Adora any praise. She thought of the abuse she'd endured in comparison; Shadow Weaver practicing horrifying spells on a young Catra, the irreversible scars she’d left behind. She thought of how Hordak robbed her of her oxygen in fits of rage, and degraded and abused her into but a kneeling, submissive pet. She thought of the sword and Adora's supposed destiny. How she'd been given immeasurable powers for the ‘greater good,' simply for existing. She thought of Adora's princess friends, who had grown so easily accustomed to her, given Adora the world. 

She thought of herself, and how Adora was once _her_ world.

How back in the Fright Zone, Catra clung to Adora like she was water in an open desert. Like she was all there was. A clear dependency that wasn't prominent in her own eyes until Adora had left her all alone.

_I've only kept you around because Adora is fond of you._

_You're nothing but a mere pet, living in Adora's shadow._

_Your best bet surviving here is to stick by her side, forever._

Things weren't like that anymore. Catra was running things in the Fright Zone, entire armies at her beck and call. She had single-handedly made her way to the top, dethroned both a powerful leader with connection to a runestone as well as defeated a ruthless dictator,no thanks to Adora. She didn't need protection, the warmth and security Adora once offered her.

"Well, Adora, you're not special to me." Catra shoved the blonde away, and was met with little resistance this time. Adora, eyes like saucers, seemed to wordlessly plea for her to stay. To stop pushing her away.

  
Adora tried to grab her again, but it seemed this was the worst she could’ve done. Instead of telling her off like last time, Catra snapped. _Completely_. 

With a snarl, the brunette dove at her, and the two went crashing toward the ground. Catra straddled Adora, pinning her beneath her weight and pushing back her thermal thoughts. Her forearm pressed to Adora's chest, the other tightly gripping the blade that had found new residence at Adora's neck.

"Is this what you want, Adora? Huh?" Her irises burned heavy with fire, "You want to die like the hero? Be praised by the generations?" The tip of the blade pressed lightly at the base of her throat, testing the skin residing there. Adora sprawled motionless beneath her, gaze never leaving Catra.

Even on the verge of a imminent death, Adora said nothing. Why didn't she look like she cared? Why wasn't she fighting back?

Instead, she just sat there, only gazing at Catra sadly. It only made Catra devastatingly confused and all the more angry. Knuckles turning white after gripping the blade so fiercely.

"Is that what you want?" Catra tried again, she seemed to plead for an answer. The pressure of the top of the blade fell back for only a moment as Adora opened her mouth to speak.

She spit blood at Catra's bare feet, wiping the vile taste of copper form her lips.

"I'd rather die than continue to watch what you've become."

Of course even in her final moments Adora would say something so.. heroic. It was far from a surprise to Catra, and only made her all the more angrier.

"...In that case, you can die for nothing." She said.

Before she could even think to replace the blade to its rightful place, Adora said,

“You were never nothing to me."

Catra froze on top of Adora. Was it a trick? Was she only saying it because Catra sat atop her, willing her a painful death? Mind buzzing, Catra gave a shrill yell before tumbling off of Adora, clutching her head tightly, which was now pounding with emotional confusion. She didn’t want to kill Adora, her childhood best friend, she didn’t want to hurt her, not physically anyway. And yet her mind yelled and thrashed and screamed that it was the only thing that would make things right. _How would it make things right?_

Adora, obviously, viewed this dilemma from the sideline with concerned eyes. “Catra, _please_. Let me help you.” She sat up slowly, not at all put off by the fact that Catra had only moments ago threatened her life. Why would she be so trusting?

But Catra was thinking quite the opposite. She quickly dashed into the night, desperately hiding the choking sob that formed in the back of her throat.

She could practically feel Adora debate chasing her, but instead, she let her go. 

And Catra could feel the chasm that had formed between them. And her own decent into hopelessness, vanity. But she didn't care.

If Adora's destiny was to find the sword, then maybe it was their destiny to be torn apart.

Catra wiped away remnants of lost tears, willing herself to be strong. As she always did.

"I hate you." She whispered to nobody in particular, not even Adora, and she didn't look back.


End file.
